


Here, Or Take Away?

by Lollopy



Series: Coffee Shop AU [1]
Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-03 16:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21182819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lollopy/pseuds/Lollopy
Summary: What is a fandom without a coffee shop AU that no one asked for."Look, that till’s just been abandoned.” Ben leans closer, looking around the empty café with exaggerated motions. He lowers his voice, almost whispering. “We could clean them out, they’d never know. What d’you reckon?”“I don’t think they’ve had enough customers today for us to fund a new life for ourselves.”“What about a weekend away in Margate?”





	Here, Or Take Away?

“He’s banned,” is the first thing Ben hears as he pushes open the door to the coffee shop. Damn. He’d hoped this place might have had some new staff in in the past eight or so months. But he remembers that one standing on the customer’s side of the till as the bloke who’d dragged him out, literally, by the back of his collar the last time he was here. He’d been the one who hadn’t cared that this is where he and Paul had come so many times, and that the arsehole in the corner making homophobic comments about two strangers on the street didn’t deserve to be in there, _in Paul’s seat_.

The one behind the counter though he doesn’t recognise. He must be newer. Tall, ugly jumper, hair that was probably nicely styled before the autumn weather got to it. Cute, in that dozy kind of way Ben kind of wishes he didn’t find so attractive, but he does.

“Who bars people from a coffee shop?” Ben says. He takes one more step inside then stops. He’s still on the edge of the doormat, which he feels is a fair enough compromise.

“Who starts a punch up in a coffee shop?” the man shoots back as he does up his coat, pulling gloves out of the pockets. Giving Ben a last look, he turns back to Ugly Jumper. “I’ll see you later, Callum. Text me if you need anything. And don’t sell this one anything.” Ben watches the man go, ignoring the accidentally-on-purpose shove of shoulder against shoulder as he passes him. The door opens and shuts with a slam, and the one behind the counter – Callum, didn’t he say? – is still staring at him with that slightly vacant look.

Ben takes the opportunity to remove his coat and settles down on one of the tall chairs at the long communal table. It’s empty at this time of day and he takes out a few invoices and order forms for the Arches that need looking over but he's been struggling to actually get through uninterrupted. He _was_ going to order a tea, he remembers the lemony, cinnamony taste of their specialty, but if that dickhead wants to be awkward then fine. Ben can be awkward. Anyway, it’s starting to rain outside and he’s not going back out in that anytime soon.

He gets through one invoice and the last six petty cash receipts (who’s buying so many Jammy Dodgers?) before he sees Callum, out of the corner of his eye, come out from behind the counter. He pretends not to notice him making his way over until he puts a glass of the free tap water down on the table, nearly splashing Minute Mart receipt number three – a box of plasters and a Snickers. Ben mutters a ‘thanks’ without looking up but Callum doesn’t leave. He hovers over Ben instead, like his Mum does when she wants to ask him something she thinks he won’t want to answer. Ben pushes the paperwork away, lets his pen drop on top of it.

“You working up to kicking me out?” he asks loudly, turning in his seat to face the other man properly. He sees Callum’s gaze flit from his eyes to his mouth and then up and down the length of him, and Ben raises his eyebrows in silent understanding.

_Ohh. _Interesting.

“Nah, just, er, how _do_ you start a punch up in a coffee shop?” he stutters with an awkward laugh, like he knows he’s been caught out.

Ben opens his mouth to answer and then stops himself. He could be honest, properly honest, about the arsehole and the comments and about Paul, in the way that gets him showered in uncomfortable amounts of sympathy and insincere apologies. Or he could be honest in the way that makes people cough politely and immediately change the subject. Or he could outright lie, say he was trying to stop an armed robber or something stupid like that. In the end he just sighs, and shrugs.

“Having a bad day, I guess,” he says. Callum smiles back at him, and then reaches out to hesitantly pat Ben’s arm before he turns to leave.

“I hope you’re having a better one today then.”

“Well,” he answers, watching Callum make his way back through the tables, collecting abandoned mugs as he goes. “I am now it’s just you and me.” He can’t see Callum’s face, but he sees the way he fumbles with the mug he’d just picked up, ending up with cold tea over his fingers. Ben can’t help the laugh that comes out as he goes back to his work.

-

He manages more in 90 minutes at the coffee shop than he had over the past week back in Albert Square. Whenever he'd tried to get it done at the car lot, the phone would go. Whenever he tried at the Arches, Keanu made a concentrated effort to make as much noise as humanly possible. And if he tried at home, Ian would appear to graciously share his years of business experience, whether Ben wanted him to or not, whether it was _relevant_ or not. He’d even taken over Jay’s office for all of twenty minutes one day, until a grieving family had descended unannounced and he’d awkwardly shuffled out the room as Jay had handed out the tissues.

While he’s been in the shop there’s been a slow trickle of customers coming in and out, but none that have sat down and stayed. Lucky, really. Ben does feel a bit bad about monopolising the table without having actually bought anything, seeing as Callum has been so very hospitable with his constant water refills and occasional offer of a cake or cookie sample. He’s debating whether or not he feels bad enough to actually make a purchase when Callum appears again, only this time he’s got a sandwich and a packet of crisps on the plate in his hand, rather than another freebie.

“Can’t keep away from me, can you?” Ben says, tapping his pen against the notepad. He leans back in his chair and gives Callum the kind of smile that normally works out well for him down the Albert. He falters for a second as he gives Ben another once over like before, but then carries on. Damn.

“I need to have lunch,” he says, tilting the plate down to give Ben a better look. Ben straightens up in the chair.

“… Ok? Need someone to cut the crusts off?” Callum jerks the plate back as he rolls his eyes, fixing on a spot in the corner of the ceiling before looking back down at Ben.

“No, I mean, we close during breaks if there’s only one of us here.”

“So _this_ is you working up to kicking me out?”

“No,” he says again, quickly, “I mean, you can go if you want, but if you stay I’m going to be locking the door.” Ben waves one hand – _please, by all means_ – and watches Callum goes to turn the lock and flip the sign. The _click_ of the lock sounds louder than it should be, but then the place is practically deserted and Callum’s taken the opportunity to turn off Magic FM, or whatever nonsense has been playing quietly in the background since Ben arrived.

He picks the seat furthest away from Ben, albeit on the same table, but he immediately gets out his phone and starts tapping away so Ben goes back to what he came here to do.

The silence lasts all of thirty seconds.

“Doing anything interesting?” Ben jumps in his seat, and accidentally draws a line over half of the page he's looking at.

“Do you normally harass customers like this?” he snaps.

“You’ve been sat here for nearly two hours and haven’t spent a thing, so _technically_ you’re not a customer.”

“I was about to get up and order something!” he says, lying through his teeth. “But the service in this place is terrible. Look, that till’s just been abandoned.” Ben leans closer, looking around the empty café with exaggerated motions. He lowers his voice, almost whispering. “We could clean them out, they’d never know. What d’you reckon?”

“I don’t think they’ve had enough customers today for us to fund a new life for ourselves.”

“What about a weekend away in Margate?”

“Maybe,” Callum agrees as he takes another bite from his sandwich. “You’ll have to drive though, Chris has my car. The one who banned you,” he explains at Ben’s questioning look.

“Oh.” Chris. Right. He’ll remember that. He reaches over across and along the table to sneak a crisp from the packet Callum’s opened. “Do you normally let your boss borrow your car?”

“He’s not just my boss, we’re friends.” There’s a pause, and Ben can tell Callum hasn’t finished speaking. He watches the other man examine the missing bite of his sandwich in silence before he eventually continues. “He’s my ex, actually.”

“And you’re still working together? That’s impressive.” His eyes flick to Ben and then back to his sandwich.

“It weren’t a bad break up. In the army, where we met, we were great together. But now, back in the real world…” He shrugs. “Didn’t work out. I guess it’s just one of those things, you know?” Ben wishes he could say he does. Out the handful of relationships he’s had, none of those had had exactly happy, amicable endings. Ben opens his mouth to say something, realises that he actually has no idea of anything helpful to say, and closes his mouth again. The uncertain movements seem to jolt Callum into action, and suddenly he’s stuttering out, “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that, you didn’t need to know. I’ll get out of your way.” Before Ben can say anything, Callum is up and gone, taking his plate back to the sink hidden behind the counter. When he comes back to unlock the door and turn the sign from CLOSED back to OPEN, he keeps his eyes down and away from Ben.

Two separate customers come and go in the ten minutes after, but now there’s an atmosphere in the shop that’s so awkward it’s making Ben’s skin itch. He can’t finish what he’s got left to do because he keeps glancing over at the man behind the counter, washing out mugs with a bit more effort than is Ben reckons is necessary. He feels like maybe he should say something, although he doesn’t know what, or apologise, but he doesn’t know what for. It’s not like he _asked_ Callum for a rundown on his love life, is it? He didn’t sit him down and ask him if he had any uncomfortable or painful memories he’d like to go through with him, did he? If Ben was more of a people person, if prison and a shit dad and his general disaster of a life hadn’t left him with this hole where his empathetic social skills should be, he might go over there and tell him about Paul. Or maybe not Paul. Maybe Abi. Maybe hearing about _that_ train wreck of a relationship would make Callum feel better about two people just quietly, civilly, drifting apart.

He’s saved from his thoughts by his phone lighting up with a text from Lola, asking if he can pick up Lexi from after school club. It’s short notice, short enough that he’d be late even if he’d left five minutes ago, so he grabs his bundle of papers and throws on his coat.

“I’ll leave you in peace with your paying customers,” he calls over to the man who’s been nice enough to, for the most part, leave him be for two hours when he was supposed to sling him out immediately. Callum gives him a half-hearted wave, but he’s already serving someone and doesn’t really look up. “Maybe I’ll see you soon,” Ben tries again. He doesn’t answer that, either.

His conscience, that tiny sliver of it remaining, convinces him to drop a tenner into the tip mug by the sugar stand. He _almost_ considers writing his number on one of the loyalty stamp cards and putting it in there as well, but that’s just… awful, and tacky, and not Ben Mitchell at all.

He’s almost out of the door, one foot on the wet pavement, when Callum finally speaks.

“If…” He turns back, his hand still on the door handle. Callum’s come out from behind the counter and he’s fiddling with a tea towel in his hands. The woman at the till, waiting for a caramel latte and a lemon muffin, looks on unimpressed. “I cover Chris’s afternoon shifts on Thursdays,” he says. “Twelve to six. If you were thinking of coming back and don’t want someone trying to throw you out.”

-

(He comes back on Thursday. And the Thursday after that, and the Thursday after that.

On week five, Callum shuts up the shop two hours early and takes him to the Chinese on the corner for “an actual proper date”.

On week eight, Ben brings Lexi with him after school, and he’s pretty sure that’s when he falls in love.

On week twenty, they have their first big argument, out the back by the bins. Ben does _not_ cry, Callum does _not_ scream when a rat runs over his shoes, and it’s a distant memory by the time week twenty one rolls around.

On week thirty two, he brings the keys to the empty flat above Coker & Mitchell with him and, in his pocket, a long list of reasons why it’s the perfect place for them.

Chris never really warms to him. Probably something to do with that time he found them in the stock room on week seventeen.)

**Author's Note:**

> There's possibly a Christmas-y follow up to this coming because nothing is better than a coffee shop AU than a Christmas coffee shop AU.


End file.
